Subject:    ADVENTURES IN SERVOLAND: CHAPTER 6; Pig and Peeper

(For Kibo, wherever I may find him)
From: "Plain, Simple, Blackhawk." <janosprohaska@earthlink.net> Newsgroups: alt.fan.tom-servo,alt.religion.kibology Message-ID: <janosprohaska-75A2A7.19470128102001@isp-east.usenetserver.com> ************************************************************************* BLACKHAWK'S ADVENTURES IN SERVOLAND Previous chapter: Advice from the Redneck with a Caterpillar(tm) CHAPTER VI Pig and Peeper For a minute or two he stood looking at the habitrail, and wondering what to do next, when suddenly a Kibologist came running out of the wood--(he considered him to be a Kibologist because he wasn't wearing any pants: otherwise, judging by his face only, he would have called him a faux German)--and rapped loudly at the hatch with his knuckles. It was opened by another Kibologist dressed in star-spangled Avocado, with a round face, and tiny caret shaped eyes like an ASCII drawing of the Avocado Avenger (without pants); and both Kibologists, Blackhawk noticed, had hair made of "((" brackets that curled all over their heads. He felt very curious to know what it was all about, and crept a little way out of the wood to listen. [Image] Kibological servants __________________________________________________________ *********** | * HOME * Meat King, indeed. |_____________ * SWEET * )))), / | / / /\ *HABITRAIL* //_ _) / 8888888888888888 | / / / / *********** ( '\' 8888888888888 |/ / / \ \_-/ 888888 ,~,;, Wanna buy a frame, cheap?/ / ,---/ '---. 88888 ~(:()))) / | / / \ / \ /oTTo\ 888888 ) );),^~; 88888888 | / / // / \__ _|__,/ \ 888888 (;(;( o /: 888888888 | / / / \ / )\ | )\_ \8888888 )~);)- 8888888888 |/ / / / / _/ ( | ) / / 88888 (;(;( (_ 88888888888 | / / \ / | (__|__) | / 888888 ~;)/* \/*\A\ 8888888888b | / / / /,' / \/ /, / 888888* (;(* * * *)V\ 8888888888' | / / /\ _/(_ ( peanus)-' 88888888 );`'' `''/O/ 8888888888: | / / / / _`--,/____ |____|__|88888888888 :'\)_,_(/ / 8888888888P |/ / / \ , _ _____| | ) |88888888888 \/;;;;;\/ 888888888888 | / / / / \ \ | / | 8888888888888 (\_/) 888888888888 | .----------.\ / \ \ | / \ | 888888888888 | | | 888888888888 | | The Wench | \ \ / `| | _) 88888888888 | | | 88888888888 |/|Lives Here.| \ \ | | | | 8888888888 |(|)| 8888888888 | | I'd turn | \_\ | / \ | 888888888 | | | 888888888 | | back if I | | | \ | 88888888 |_|_| 88888888 | | were You! | , | \ | \_ 8888888 | | | 8888888 | '----------'\ " /__( ' '-._`, 88888 <_/|\_> 88888 |/____/||__/__/ \|) ,' '" " , \)//." , ,. " " , .. .,\\)||,.BH ,."\) The faux German Kibologist began by producing from under his arm a great letter (it was "H"), nearly as large as himself, and this he handed over to the other, saying, in a solemn tone, `For the Wench. A letter from the Witch inviting you to play croquet.' The Avocado Avenger repeated, in the same solemn tone, only changing the order of the words a little, `From the Witch. A letter inviting the Wench to play croquet.' Then they both bowed low, and their "(())" got entangled together. Blackhawk laughed so much at this, that he had to run back into the wood for fear of their hearing him; and when he next peeped out, the faux German Kibologist was gone, and the other was sitting on the ground near the hatch, staring stupidly up into the sky, whacking herself with the letter and saying "doidy, doidy, doidy". Blackhawk went timidly up to the hatch, which had an infinity symbol emblazoned upon it, that contained two dots in the loops, and submitted a "Hello I'm new" post through a small orifice below. `There's no sort of use in posting,' said the Avocado Avenger, `and that for two reasons. First, because I'm on the same side of the "booby" hatch as you are; secondly, because they're making such a noise inside, there couldn't possibly be any bandwidth left for you.' And certainly there was a most extraordinary noise going on within--a constant squealing and peeping, and every now and then a great crash, as if a political ideology or scientific fact had been broken to pieces. `Please, then,' said Blackhawk, `how am I to get in?' `There might be some sense in your posting,' the Avocado Avenger went on without attending to him, `if we had the hatch between us. For instance, if you were inside, you might post, and I could follow-up, you know.' She was looking up into the big letter "H" all the time she was speaking, and this Blackhawk thought decidedly uncivil. `But perhaps she can't help it,' he said to himself; `her eyes are so very nearly at the top of her hair, I should have spent more time on it, oh Stacia will kill me. But at any rate she might answer questions.--How am I to get in?' he repeated, aloud. `I shall post here,' the Avocado Avenger remarked, `till tomorrow--' At this moment the booby hatch of the house opened, and a large Huckleberry Hound spinning disk came skimming out, straight at the Avocado Avenger's head: it just grazed her nose, and broke to pieces against one of the trees behind him. `--or next day, maybe. Wanna buy a frame, cheap?', the Avocado Avenger continued in the same tone, exactly as if nothing had happened. `How am I to get in?' asked Blackhawk again, in a louder tone. `You're the author, are you to get in at all?' said the Avocado Avenger. `That's the first question, you know.' It was, no doubt: only Blackhawk did not like to be told so. `It's really dreadful,' he muttered to himself, `the way all the creatures argue and complain. It's enough to drive one crazy!' The Avocado Avenger seemed to think this a good opportunity for repeating her remark, with variations. `I shall post here,' she said, `on and off, for days and days. I know of a good deal on a frame, interested?' `No. But what am I to do out here?' said Blackhawk. `Anything you like,' said the Avocado Avenger, and began whistling. `Oh, there's no use in talking to her,' said Blackhawk desperately: `she's perfectly kibological!' And he opened the hatch and went in. The hatch led right into a large kitchen, which was full of smoke from one end to the other: the Wench was sitting on a three-legged chair in the middle (because Blackhawk had trouble with the perspective), nursing a baby; the cook was leaning over the fire, stirring a large cauldron which seemed to be full of marshmallow soup. `There's certainly too much peeper in that soup!' Blackhawk said to himself, as well as he could for the telepathic pull coming from the soup was very strong. There was certainly too much of it in the air. Even the Wench branefarted occasionally; and as for the baby, it was pausing and squealing alternately without a moments breath. The only things in the kitchen that were not momentarily enslaved, were the cook, and a large cat which was sitting on the hearth and grinning from ear to ear. [Image] Cook, Wench, Infinity Cat, Baby Cronan, and Blackhawk (a Servoland Elf Spat.) | \---/ | I pick the middle one... ________ / //%\\ \ / ______________________________________________ /| |_ `. (o) (o) .' I__I__I__I_| _- % % |\ | _- |_ ---::__o__::--- _I__I__I__|-_ % % _- | | |_ .' \'|||||'/`. I__I__I__I_|I'm sick of just% % | | - |_I__ / \|||/ \ _I__I__I__I__| hanging ,j, %w , | | - |__I | ` ` /\ _I__I__I__I_| -_ - around / ) \ /%mMmMm. | | |_I_ |`|- ` -| /\ __I__I__I__| //| | ; `.,,' | |-_- / |`|-| |-|' /| _ \ w | | `.,;` | | / \`|-| |-|.' |_______.' ) \ -_ / ( | || me too | | / (_.'(_.'_,'_|_|_|_|_.' \ //\_'/ (.\ -_ | | /__________________________________\ w \/ - ``' | |_|__________________________________| _ - _- | (()) | _______________________ | _- - | |||| | | ) ) ) | | -_ | |||| | | ( ( )( _ | | T T T T T _- | /###_\ | | __.'')''('').__ / | | | | | | | _- - | \C '\' | | _/U ',........' U | | | (_) | | | Gharlane | \ _|| | | |PEEP SOUP| | | | / \ @ [_]d b _@_ / _ | _/ /___ ,____ '_________' | | | |_| ____ [#] | | \__/ \/-__/ `') ( )' | | | ______\__/_________[#]__ | | |o _ // | |____(,`)(,(____| | |/________________________\ | | ' |o | |\ | /| `@@(@@)@)' |\ | | || _____ || | | |o " |`-' /!\ @@)@@)@@@( /!\\ | | || _-- \ / || /|\ | | |________________________\|__|_||____________/###\___||_|||||__| __|_____| _ - _ - _-_ ,@@@@@@ - -|| -_ _ - \___/____ ( ) ) ) | \ @@@@@ \ .. \_____/ ( *peep*) _ | Pennyworth only @@@C =\= '__`.SQUEEEEAL 3`~~~`3 /( ) ) ) | ' | of beautiful @@@( O ) /{oo};/ ( (. .) ) | | Peep? __) `--'__( ) \ ^ / " | '| /'` \____/ /( '_/ \||/ ___\ ~ /___ \||/ | | / . )% ' ) (__P /---\(((/---\ d__) | | ( _./ -' ( ( ')// \ \___/ / \(/ \ \___/ / | | | ) ( (// \ /|\ _/ Q |\ / _ | _ | \ )` --- (" )__ \_____/ | |o o | \_____/ /_\|/_\| _( _/ ` ____.-' `. | |o o | ///| \ \ \ \ | |o o | ||\ \ \ \ | \ . . . |_|_____| ||_\ | .| | | /__(_)__\ ||__) ` ' | || | . /| |\ || / | | | | | / | _ | \ || | | / | | . /__| | |__\ || ________ ___//____| | | | || (` /___/__||______ | | | || / /| | Infinity | | | | BH ------\(-|___|__________|------ | | | `Please would you tell me,' said Blackhawk, a little timidly, for he was not quite sure whether it was good manners for him to speak first, `why your cat grins like that?' `It's an Infinity cat,' said the Wench, `and that's why. You piggy ferret!' She said the last word with such sudden violence that Blackhawk quite jumped; but he saw in another moment that it was addressed to the baby, and not to him, so he took courage, and went on again:-- `I didn't know that Infinity cats always grinned; in fact, I didn't know that cats could grin.' `They all can,' said the Wench; `and most of 'em do.' `I don't know of any that do,' Blackhawk said very politely, feeling quite pleased to have got into a conversation. `You don't know much,' said the Wench; `and that's a fact.' Blackhawk did not at all like the tone of this remark, and thought it would be as well to introduce some other subject of conversation. While he was trying to fix on one, the cook took the cauldron of soup off the fire, and at once set to work throwing everything within his reach at the Wench and the baby --the Woody Woodpecker Bowl came first; then followed a shower of tin-foil hats, posts from ARK, and an album by Tool. The Wench took no notice of them even when they hit her; and the baby was squealing so much already, that it was quite impossible to say whether the blows hurt it or not. `Oh, please mind what you're doing!' cried Blackhawk, jumping up and down in an agony of terror. `Oh, there goes his precious nose'; as an unusually large pet-treadmill flew close by it, and very nearly carried it off. `If everybody minded their own business,' the Wench said in a hoarse growl, `a post would go round the Usenet a good deal faster than it does.' `Which would not be an advantage,' said Blackhawk, who felt very glad to get an opportunity of showing off a little of his knowledge. `Just think of what work it would make with the cancels and SPAM! You see the Usenet takes thirty-two hours to get a post across its axis--' `Talking of axes,' said the Wench, `chop off his balls!' Blackhawk glanced rather anxiously at the cook, to see if he meant to take the hint; but the cook was momentarily enslaved by the soup, and seemed not to be listening, so Blackhawk went on again: `thirty-two hours, I think; or is it six of one and half-dozen of the other? I--' `Oh, don't bother me,' said the Wench; `I never could abide figures!' And with that she began torturing her child again, singing a sort of lullaby to it as she did so, and whacking it with a leather whip at the end of every line: `Speak roughly with your Cronan, And beat him when he trolls: We know he's just promotin', Our trollerizing goals.' CHORUS. (In which the cook and the baby joined):-- `Peep! Peep! Peep!' While the Wench sang the second verse of the song, she kept violently spreading butter on the baby up and down, and the poor little thing squealed so, that Blackhawk could hardly hear the words:-- `I speak severely to my Jaime, I beat on those he fleeces; For he can peep and soon enjoy The pooper when he pleases!' CHORUS. `Peep! Peep! Peep!' `Here! You may nurse little Cronan a bit, if you like!' the Wench said to Blackhawk, flinging the baby at him as she spoke. `I must go and get ready to play croquet with the Witch,' and she hurried out of the room. The cook threw Pez dispensers after her as she went out, but they all just missed her. Blackhawk caught the baby with some difficulty, as it was a queer-shaped little creature, and held out its arms and legs in all directions, `just exactly unlike animal 57,' thought Blackhawk. The poor little thing was snorting like a steam-engine when he caught it, and kept twisting itself up and straightening itself out again, so that altogether, for the first minute or two, it was as much as he could do to hold it. As soon as he had made out the proper way of nursing it, (which was to twist it up into a sort of mobius strip, and then keep tight hold of its right wing and it's leftist agenda, so as to prevent its undoing itself,) he carried it out into the open air. `If I don't take this child away with me,' thought Blackhawk, `they're sure to killfile it in a day or two: wouldn't it be murder to leave it's sweet ebony behind?' He said the last words out loud, and the little thing squealed in reply (it had left off biting by this time). `Don't squeal,' said Blackhawk; `that's not at all a proper way of expressing yourself.' The baby squealed again, and Blackhawk looked very anxiously into its face to see what was the matter with it. There could be no doubt that it had a very long nose, much more like a snout than a real nose; also its eyes were getting extremely small and beady for a baby: altogether Blackhawk did not like the look of the thing at all. `But perhaps it was only sobbing,' he thought, and looked into its eyes again, to see if there were any tears. No, there were no tears. `If you're going to turn into a piggy little ferret, my dear,' said Blackhawk, seriously, `I'll have nothing more to do with you. Mind now!' The poor little thing sobbed again (or squealed, it was impossible to say which), and they went on for some while in silence. [Image] Blackhawk and ferret baby _____ \_____/ 3`~~~'3 `But perhaps it was only sobbing,' he thought, ( (' ') ) \ > / ___\ = /___ /---\(((/---\ SQUEEEEAL! / / \(/ .'')\ / / /_.^^-^^[oo])\ | ( . VV) | |____(_,__;_._/___| | |o o | |_|_____| /__(_)__\ /| |\ / | _ | \ .'''. /__| | |__\ . O . | | | '|' | | | \|/ | | | BH | | | | |/ Blackhawk was just beginning to think to himself, `Now, what am I to do with this creature when I get it home?' when it squealed again, so violently, that he looked down into its face in some alarm. This time there could be no mistake about it: it was neither more nor less than a ferret, and he felt that it would be quite absurd for him to carry it further. So he set the little creature down, and felt quite relieved to see it trot away quietly into the wood. `If it had grown up,' he said to himself, `it would have made a dreadfully dangerous troll: but it makes rather a handsome ferret, I think.' And he began thinking over other posters he knew, who might do very well as ferrets, and was just saying to himself, `if one only knew the right way to change them--' when he was a little startled by seeing the Infinity Cat sitting on a bough of a tree a few yards off. The Cat only grinned when it saw Blackhawk. It looked good-natured, he thought: still it had very good memes and a twisted logic, so he felt that it ought to be treated with respect. `Infinity Puss,' he began, rather timidly, as he did not at all know whether it would like the name: however, it only grinned a little wider. `Come, it's pleased so far,' thought Blackhawk, and he went on. `Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?' [Image] Blackhawk speaks to Infinity Cat | \---/ | `That depends a good deal / //%\\ \ / on where you want to get to,' `. (o) (o) .' ---::__o__::--- .' \'|||||'/`. / \|||/ \ | ` ` /\ |`|- ` -| /\ W |`|-| |-|' /\ // \`|-| |-|.' |_______.' ) // ____________(_.'(_.'_,'_|_|_|_|_.'____//__BH (based on @ -_ -_ _ -@ -_ Veronica Karlsson) - _ _- @ - _ _- _________________________________________@_ \\ \\ \\ M `That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,' said the Cat. `I don't much care where--' said Blackhawk. `Then it doesn't matter which way you go,' said the Cat. `--so long as I get to alt.fan.tom-servo,' Blackhawk added as an explanation. `Oh, you're sure to do that,' said the Cat, `if you only walk long enough.' Blackhawk felt that this could not be denied, so he tried another question. `What sort of people live about there?' `In that direction,' the Cat said, waving its right loop round, `lives a retired Captain who's a Hatter: and in that direction,' waving the other loop, `lives a March Jaime. Visit either you like: they're both fucking epitomes of whimsy.' `But I don't want to go among fucking epitomes of whimsy,' Blackhawk remarked. `Oh, you can't help that,' said the Cat: `we're all fucking epitomes of whimsy here. I'm a fucking epitome of whimsy. You're a fucking epitome of whimsy.' `How do you know I'm a fucking epitome of whimsy?' said Blackhawk. `I read the last chapter.' said the Cat, `besides, they all end up here.' Blackhawk didn't think that proved anything at all; however, he went on `And how do you know that you're a fucking epitome of whimsy?' `To begin with,' said the Cat, `Odeus is not a fucking epitome of whimsy. You grant that?' `I suppose not,' said Blackhawk. `Well, then,' the Cat went on, `you see, an Odeus flames when it's angry, and trolls when it's pleased. Now I peep when I'm pleased, and I peep when I'm angry. Therefore I'm a fucking epitome of whimsy.' `I call it purring, not peeping,' said Blackhawk. `Call it what you like,' said the Cat. `Do you play croquet with the Witch to-day?' `I should like it very much,' said Blackhawk, `but I haven't been invited yet.' `You'll see me there,' said the Cat, and vanished. Blackhawk was not much surprised at this, he was getting so used to people having read the chapters ahead by now. While he was looking at the place where it had been, it suddenly appeared again. `By-the-bye, what became of the baby?' said the Cat. `I'd nearly forgotten to ask.' `It turned into a ferret,' Blackhawk quietly said, just as if it had come back in a natural way. `I thought it would, (he had read through to Chapter 8, you see).' said the Cat, and vanished again. Blackhawk waited a little, half expecting to see it again, but it did not appear, and after a minute or two he walked on in the direction in which the March Jaime was said to live. `I've seen hatters before,' he said to himself; `the March Jaime will be much the most interesting, and perhaps as this is May he won't be a fucking epitome of whimsy--at least not so much as he was in March.' As he said this, he looked up, and there was the Cat again, sitting on a branch of a tree. `Did you say ferret, or carrot?' said the Cat. `I said ferret,' replied Blackhawk; `and I wish you wouldn't keep appearing and vanishing so suddenly: It's a lot of work to draw so much ASCII.' `All right,' said the Cat; and this time it vanished quite slowly, beginning with the end of the tail, and ending with the grin, which remained some time after the rest of it had gone. Blackhawk was too much tired to draw the ASCII and so he altered one from Joan Stark. [Image] Infinity Cat fading to smile oo ..._ .-. .-. _... .' '-.(o ) (o ).-' `. : _ _ _`~(_)~`_ _ _ : : /: ' .-=_ _=-. ` ;\ : : :|-.._ ' ` _..-|: : : `:| |`:-:-.-:-:'| |:' : `. `.| | | | | | |.' .' `. `-:_| | |_:-' .' jgs `-._ ```` _.-' ``-------'' `Well! I've often seen a cat without a grin,' thought Blackhawk; `but a grin without a cat! It's the most curious ASCII I ever saw in my life!' He had not gone much farther before he came in sight of the house of the March Jaime: he thought it must be the right house, because it was shaped like a giant toilet with rabbit ears and the roof was thatched with fur. It was so large an outhouse, that he did not like to go nearer till he had nibbled some more of the lefthand pez dispenser, and raised himself to about two feet high: even then he walked up towards it rather timidly, saying to himself `Suppose it should be full of fucking epitomes of whimsy after all! I almost wish I'd gone to see Captain Hatter instead!' Next chapter: A Mad Tofu-Party -- Plain, Simple, Blackhawk "Why would socially mature people need Usenet in the first place?" -- Tyler

  

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